Chapter Eleven
The next morning, I woke as usual, right before my alarm went off. Since I got up at the exact same time every weekday and I hated the sound of the alarm, I always woke up before it went off. But I always set it, just in case.
As routine as that was, something seemed different about this morning, something that absolutely never happened on Mondays. A warm body spooned against my back; a strong arm wrapped around me. I frowned. If this continued, it was certainly going to make it difficult for me to get out of bed every day, especially when it turned cold outside.
Reluctantly, I slipped out from under Matt’s arm and made my way to the shower. I looked down at myself and thought I might have to set the alarm half an hour earlier each morning so that Matt would have time to take care of the problem that he had created. But I had no time today.
I made it a cold shower, and when I got out, I smelled coffee brewing. After dressing I went into the kitchen. Matt had already thrown on jeans and a T-shirt to drive me to work, and he was making toast.
He smiled at me. “Don’t you look all businessman in that suit. Very hot, babe. I made toast. Do you want anything else? What do you usually do for breakfast?”
“Coffee.”
“That’s it?”
“Coffee. One cup here and that big travel mug to go.”
“Baby, you hardly ate anything yesterday. Now you won’t have a piece of toast? No wonder you’re so…”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So what?”
“Um…nothing.”
“You’re my mother now?”
He threw his hands up. “Not me. But just wait until you meet my mama. She’s going to sit you down and feed you lasagna until you can’t get up off the chair. I’ll have to roll you home.”
I had to chuckle at that image, although the thought of meeting his mother was slightly terrifying.
He dropped me off at work and said, “Call me if you need anything, okay? Or even if you don’t. I have a couple of classes today. Here.” He handed me a printout of his schedule of classes and practice times for the week. “I’ll post another copy on the fridge. I’ll be back to pick you up at six, right?”
He leaned over to give me a kiss good-bye. Then he stayed and watched until I was inside the building. I didn’t know if I should feel happy that he cared so much or angry that he thought so little of my ability to take care of myself.
I tried to look as surprised as everyone else when we were all called in for a staff meeting first thing that morning. But I didn’t have to fake my wet eyes when Ethan Brooks told us about Eckland being killed. The shock and disbelief had started to fade, but the grief was still strong. At least Sanderson seemed fine; I spotted him in the staff meeting, looking as shocked as everyone else.
Brooks left out the details I had heard the previous day about the method used, simply saying Eckland had been killed in his house and the police were investigating. The two detectives with him handed out an interview schedule. Mine was later in the afternoon, just about last on the list.
I spent most of the morning staring at my computer screen, pretending to work but unable to focus. I don’t think I was the only one. Who can concentrate when the police are calling your coworkers away one by one to interrogate them about a murder?
At lunchtime, I went down to the little sandwich shop on the lower floor of the building with Sheila and Ed. Matt had made me promise I wouldn’t leave the building to go to lunch, and none of us were in the mood to go out anyway. We didn’t know enough to even speculate about what might have happened, although most people seemed to assume a house burglary had gone bad. Sheila had already had her police interview and said she wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but she didn’t seem to think the questions were too difficult. We talked a little about what we would do as a firm: flowers for the memorial service, a fund for the grandkids?
As we walked back to the elevator, we ran into Keith. He nodded at us and stopped to say something about the terrible news. Then he looked at me and said, “James, I have a question about one of the accounts. Will you walk with me back to my office?”
If we had been alone, I would have refused, but I couldn’t very well say no to management in front of my coworkers, especially over such a mundane request. Which was probably why Keith had arranged to run into us in the hall.
I gritted my teeth and followed him back to his office. He shut the door and immediately put his arms around me. He had me backed against the wall, kissing my neck, before I even had a chance to react.
“Keith! Stop.” I tried to push him away. He backed off a little, but his hands still grasped the small of my back far too tightly.
“Just wanted to say I was sorry. That’s all. You’ve been avoiding me since that night in the club, and all I wanted to do was apologize.” His voice sounded low and sincere.
“You had no right, you son of a bitch. You don’t just drug somebody without asking them.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. I said I was sorry.” He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head away. Instead, he kissed my neck. I squirmed, feeling a little excited despite my anger and feeling ashamed of that arousal. But I still found him physically attractive—otherwise I would have kicked his ass through the wall by now. He sensed it, like a hound scenting blood, and slipped his hands down to massage my butt.
“I was just trying to make sure you had a good time. That’s all. I want you happy. Is that a bad thing? I wanted all of us to have a good time.” His gray-blue eyes stared earnestly into mine, and I wondered if he could be telling the truth.
“So what was the plan?” I asked, calming down a little. “Get me mellow and horny, then back to your apartment for—what?—more drugs? A threesome?”
“Would that have been so bad? I think you would have liked it, if your asshole friend hadn’t interfered.”
I tensed again. “Matt’s not an asshole. He cares about me. I don’t even know what the hell you want from me.” I put my hands on his shoulders and shoved hard to get him away, but he responded with more force this time, grabbing my wrists and pinning them against the wall, one knee pressed between my legs so I couldn’t move.
With his face so close to mine, I could feel his breath. The sincere and charming look had vanished, replaced by a cold and threatening gray stare. “What I want is for you to be happy. Here at work as well as at home. You like your job, don’t you?”
I froze, not believing what I was hearing. “Of course I like my job,” I answered slowly.
His hands loosened and slipped down my arms to rest around my waist again. “Good,” he said, “because you’re a valuable employee, and we would hate to lose you.”
I couldn’t move. “Why…why would you lose me?”
He shrugged. “I know you have your police interview this afternoon. I wouldn’t want them to find out anything about you taking drugs. How would that reflect on you? Or on the firm?”
I gasped in outrage. “Me? Me taking drugs? You…you…” I was practically incoherent.
He put a finger against my lips. “Shhh, baby. Who are they going to believe? You go partying every weekend. Everybody knows it.”
I could only stare at him.
“And you really wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt the firm, either, would you? Just think, not just you out of work, but all your fellow employees.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered, looking away. He must have known by my reaction that I suspected something more than just a computer error in the accounts.
He took my chin and forced me to look at him. “Just be careful what you say to the police. That’s all. We wouldn’t want them to think we have account irregularities when it’s actually just the occasional computer glitch.”
I pulled my head away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but my voice shook.
He smiled suddenly, his eyes warming, the charm turned on like a light switch. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s just keep it that way, and we’ll all
be happy.” He leaned in, gave me a light kiss, then let me go. “Oh, and Jamie?” I turned to look at him, feeling sick. “There are worse things that can happen to you besides losing your job. And to Matt.”
I left Keith’s office and made my way to the bathroom, my legs barely holding me up. I went into the stall and leaned my head against the wall, struggling to control my urge to vomit. I was glad I had only managed a few bites of my sandwich at lunch. At least the encounter had effectively killed any last vestiges of attraction I might have felt for him.
After a while I went back to my office and sat staring at the computer screen until the time for my interview arrived. The police detective in charge asked me very basic questions, and I wondered if they had done that with everyone or if Nash had called him and asked that he not question me too closely there at the office.
When Matt picked me up at six, I still felt numb. Keith had hit on all my worst fears: being out of work and homeless, being responsible for others losing their jobs. And the threat to Matt—the sudden fear that had engendered felt so strong it was shocking.
Matt was talking to me. “Jamie? I said, do you want to stop and get something to eat on the way home or make something?”
“Whatever you want. I’m not that hungry. I had a big lunch.”
“Is everything okay? How did your police interview go?”
“It was fine. The detective didn’t ask any hard questions, just basic stuff like how long had I known Eckland. Stuff like that. It was fine.”
“You look tired. Let’s just go home. I’ll make you something.”
“Okay.” I stared out the window, and we stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.
Matt made omelets for dinner, and I managed to eat enough to satisfy him, if not exactly to make him happy. I was beginning to see another side to him. He was really very domestic, and I thought of his Italian mother, providing warmth and good food in equally generous portions. Maybe if I had grown up in a family like that, I wouldn’t be so screwed up, so terrified of losing everything.
We sat on the couch after dinner, watching the news. He put his arm around me, and I rested against him. I just wanted to ignore the problems, to have a little quiet. But I knew it wouldn’t last long.
Matt stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. He said, “Do you want to tell me what happened today?”
“What do you mean? I already told you. It was fine.” I didn’t look at him.
“Vegas, remember? Don’t even try. I know there’s something wrong.” He put his hand on my chin to try to get me to look at him, just like Keith had done, and I jerked away angrily, taking him by surprise.
“Wrong,” I said, my voice escalating. “Yes, there’s something wrong. Everything is falling apart. That’s what’s wrong.”
He looked bewildered. “What did I say? I know this is stressing you out, and I only want to help. Or is this another of those things you can’t talk to me about?”
I stood up. “Look, just quit bugging me, okay? I’m not used to this, to all this concern, to somebody always being around, wondering what I’m doing, nagging at me. I just need a few minutes to myself, for God’s sake.” I went in to the bedroom and closed the door, being very careful not to slam it, just to prove to myself that I was still in control.
I lay on the bed and listened to the silence from the living room, waiting to hear the front door open and close, waiting to hear him leave as he finally gave up on me as just too much work. I waited a long time, staring into the darkness. My eyes burned, and I had to blink, pushing the wetness out of my eyes and down my face. Eventually I fell into an uneasy sleep.
For the first time in years, the alarm woke me before I could cut it off. Just one more little indication that my carefully ordered life was falling apart. I rolled over. The other side of the bed felt cold. Matt had never come to bed. He must have gone from the apartment after I fell asleep. That was good, right? It was really the best thing for both of us. And after Keith found out we weren’t together anymore, he would just forget about Matt, wouldn’t he?
Then I smelled the coffee. I closed my eyes as my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know what to feel: relief that he was still here or fear because of the threat against him.
I rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen. He sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. My usual cup rested on the counter next to the pot, and so did my travel mug, waiting to be filled.
I got my coffee and sat at the table. There was silence. Finally I said, “You are one stubborn bastard.”
He looked at me with those calm eyes. “I should know better than to push you by now. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But if you’re holding back something that could put you in danger, I really need to know.”
I looked down at my cup. “No, nothing like that.” I didn’t wait for an answer, just got up and headed for the shower.
When he dropped me off at work, he leaned over to kiss me good-bye, but he didn’t say anything. “See you tonight,” I murmured. He nodded, and I could see he was still hurt by what I had said the previous evening. I knew I should apologize, but I just couldn’t right then. If I did, I would have to explain the reason I had tried to make him angry, to make him leave, and I had been told in no uncertain terms the consequences of telling anyone about Keith’s warning.
The morning dragged along. I didn’t see Keith. I felt like going to find him, to make sure he knew I hadn’t said anything to the police. Anxiously, I wanted him to know that his threat against Matt was effective and I wouldn’t be talking to anyone.
But it turned out it was too late for that, anyway.
My phone rang midmorning. My caller ID identified Nash, and I debated whether to pick it up. Old habits die hard. Unfortunately, it seemed I couldn’t really ignore his calls anymore.
“Jesus, I thought you weren’t going to answer it this time either.” He sounded stressed, and went on before I had a chance to answer. “Are you at work?
“Of course,” I answered automatically. “It’s Tuesday.”
“Are you alone in your office?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, this is important. The flash drive you gave us is gone.”
“What?” I felt a shock. All that agonizing over whether to turn it in, and then it was just gone?
“It disappeared out of evidence. No one can find it, and no one seems to know anything about what happened to it.”
“What do you think happened?”
Silence for a long moment. “I think someone took it, someone at the Bureau. It had to be; the data had already been copied, and that’s been wiped out too. We’re going through the computer logs now, trying to see if there are any traces.”
“What does this mean?” I asked. “If someone took it, will they know it was from me?”
“Yes, they will. That information had to be provided along with the evidence.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I think you should leave. Tell them you’re sick and you need to go home early, okay? I’ll call Matt and have him pick you up. It will look less suspicious that way, and the karate studio is closer to you than I am right now, anyway.”
I almost told him about Keith’s threat. I almost pointed out what anyone who worked with computers might suspect: that the flash drive was just a copy of the information, and I’d actually used my laptop at home to analyze the data. But I didn’t. Not only because I was too scared to think rationally but because at that point I just wasn’t feeling the trust. If he could lose the evidence I had handed over to him—whether he had lost it deliberately or not—then how could I trust him? How could I trust anyone at the FBI, for that matter? I wanted my Matthew, desperately.
“James? We’ll figure this out, we’ll find out who took it. In the meantime, you just sit tight until Matt gets there, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
I ended the call, feeling numb. I knew Matt’s schedule, and I knew he had a two-hour class just beginning. When Nash called him, would h
e just leave a message? Matt’s phone would be in his locker, and he might not get the message until after his class. I debated whether to call the studio and have them interrupt his session.
I was pulling my phone out again to do just that when I felt a gentle hand on the back of my neck, stroking. “You won’t be needing that, sweetheart.” Keith’s other hand reached out to take my phone and put it in his pocket. He leaned forward and whispered into my ear, “You’ve been a bad, bad boy, little Jamie.” His tone made a shudder of fear run down my spine. “You’re going to have to come with us now.” Looking up, I saw that he wasn’t alone. It was the big blond guy with the broken nose who had been with Rastin in the hall outside Ethan Brooks’s office.
“This is my friend John,” Keith said. “John, this is Jamie. We’re all going to walk quietly out to my car now. We’re not going to make any noise, or my friend John will get very upset. Won’t you, John?”
John let his coat fall open just enough to show the gun there. I swallowed hard.
Keith continued, “And when John gets upset, he’s pretty indiscriminate. He may start with you, but he tends to get carried away. How many people do you think are in the offices on this floor?”
I couldn’t believe it. Was Keith actually capable of such an atrocity? But I couldn’t take that chance. Numbly, I let him draw me to my feet and out to his car. Keith drove while I got in the backseat next to John. No one said anything.
Rastin waited for us at Keith’s condo. He was holding the flash drive.
Chapter Twelve
They didn’t waste any time. John pulled my jacket off and pushed me into a chair, then used my tie to fasten my hands behind me.
Keith watched, standing back and grinning at me. “Now there’s a position I’ve wanted to see you in for a long time.” He put out a hand and stroked my hair. I jerked away.
Friday Night Jamie Page 14